


Celebrate Me, Liberate Me

by banditess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, OT3, Polyamory, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditess/pseuds/banditess
Summary: Lunafreya, Noctis, and Ardyn attend a Masquerade as a triad -- but Luna has no idea how her partners will be dressed. How will she find them?
Relationships: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	Celebrate Me, Liberate Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaclynhyde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaclynhyde/gifts).



> I've had this kicking around in my WIP folder for almost a year and COMPLETELY forgot about it until I ran across it last night. So I brushed off the dust, gave it a fresh coat of paint, and here it is! There's not much to it, but it's Lunardynoct and gods know we're all starving for content so I hope you all enjoy, haha. ♥
> 
> Fic title is a play on a lyric from the Ashbury Heights song "Scars of a Lighthouse," which is pretty great ship playlist material.

Lunafreya holds the ivory mask in her hands for a moment before she takes the black ribbons that hang from either side and winds them around her fingers. Pulling the mask taut against her face and wrapping the ribbons behind her head, she begins to tie them into a neat bow -- but her hand slips, and a ribbon comes undone. Her hard work, spoiled.

Luna makes a noise of frustration as she goes to start over. She raises the mask again, but a gloved hand on hers interrupts her, stops her from moving further. It gently rubs a thumb against the back of her hand, the smooth, black leather warm against her skin. She starts to turn around, but a second, similarly gloved hand squeezes her shoulder.

“Uh-uh. That would ruin the surprise. Let me help.”

Luna doesn’t have to look to know whose voice it is; she’d know her husband anywhere. But it wasn’t often that they got invited to _themed_ parties like this one, so she plays along like the _dutiful queen_ she is -- sitting up straight, looking forward -- and pretends not to know that Noctis is the one assisting her.

“Don’t look until I leave, alright?” he instructs her.

She nods, grinning to herself like a twelve year old girl with a secret. She listens for his footsteps moving towards the door and exiting the guest bedroom. At the click of the door, she turns around.

He is gone. Lunafreya finds that she is disappointed by this. In her heart, she hoped that maybe he would have stayed with her just a few moments longer; the heat of his hand on hers had warmed her _elsewhere_ , and she was curious to know how his leather-clad fingers might feel touching other, more _sensitive_ places. But she understands Noct’s somewhat urgent departure: she supposes he probably went to find their third...before he gets himself in trouble. Thinking on this and fearing the consequences, she decides to get herself moving as well, gathering up her skirts -- ivory, to match her mask -- so as not to trip over their length.

Perhaps later, when they returned home, her partners might indulge her...

She’s not sure how long the party has been going when she enters the hall, but judging by the scant number of people dancing in comparison to the amount of drink flowing, Luna would say she hasn’t missed much. She pauses, looking around at the attendees -- unsurprisingly, she doesn’t recognize anyone, as they are all in masks much like hers. Some are more elaborate, with sequins and brocade, or done up as wild animals, or embellished with glittering stones. Others are simple, minimally decorated, as Lunafreya’s is, letting the wearer’s ensemble speak for itself. Luna and her consorts had arrived separately -- on purpose, to make things more _interesting_ \-- so she knows not what the masks she is seeking this evening look like.

Moving past a few groups of people in conversation, she makes her way to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. Her eyes rove over the crowd as she descends, still searching for her partners, but it’s more difficult now that she is of a level with them. She pushes her way through the throngs, grabbing a flute of champagne as she passes an expressionless butler with a tray.

Just as Luna has nearly given up on finding them (and has drained her glass), she thinks she sees a man who might be her husband standing by a pillar across the room. He wears a well-tailored black suit with a pinstripe pattern. His half-mask is adorned with iridescent black chocobo feathers, which shimmer in the dim artificial candlelight of the hall. His shaggy hair is as dark as the feathers of his mask.

Surely it must be her Noctis, standing there with his hands at his hips? She crosses the hall to him.

“My love?” she inquires.

He smiles at her, a devilish grin -- one she has only a split second to think is very uncharacteristic of her husband -- and puts a finger to his lips. Nearby, the band strikes up a lively tune. They gaze at one another for a moment before he holds out his hand to Lunafreya, inviting her for a dance.

As they perform a surprisingly well-coordinated waltz, swaying together beneath the starry skies, Luna finds herself becoming swept up in the magic of the evening. (Or is that just the champagne?) He leans forward and whispers into her ear.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my queen?”

She hears Noctis’ voice, but somehow, instinctively, she knows this man is not him. It’s not the voice from earlier. 

Suddenly, she feels a presence behind her, and the leather-gloved hand from the bedroom is at her waist. A chill of excitement passes through her, and her eyes widen.

“May I turn around now?” Luna asks.

“Sure,” the man with the gloves -- _Noctis --_ replies.

Behind her, Noctis is wearing the same pinstripe suit and the same black, chocobo-feathered mask as her dance partner. Which means…

Lunafreya turns back around. No longer is Noctis standing there, but a much taller, ruddy-haired man. Gone is the pinstripe suit -- now he wears a simple dark suit with tails. Reminiscent of the hue and effect of chocobo feathers, it shows just a hint of vibrant color as the candlelight catches the fabric. He bears a black mask, with a fog-gray pattern of flowers across it. It matches the long scarf that drapes ‘round his neck and shoulders.

She does not say Ardyn’s name aloud -- to do so would ruin the masquerade. But she does give him a wry smile.

“I should have known you would take the theme and run with it,” she says, crossing her arms in feigned indignance.

“How could I resist.” He weasels out one of her arms, pulling her closer. “And how could you expect _me_ to resist _you_.”

Ardyn looks to Noctis, who eagerly moves in and nestles behind Luna. Noct brushes aside her flaxen hair and presses his lips to the space where her neck and shoulder meet. Luna shivers delightedly in response. Ardyn delicately tips up her chin, but she does not wait for him to do the kissing. She reaches one hand back, tangling her fingers in Noct’s hair as he nuzzles against her. The other hand she extends towards Ardyn, curling her fingers in the lapels of his jacket as she pulls him down to kiss her.

The band begins to play another tune -- a slow dance, this time. Reaching out for Ardyn’s arms, Noct embraces both him and Lunafreya. They move to and fro in one rhythm, dancing together as a somewhat awkward trio despite the odd looks they receive from the surrounding partygoers. Though they are in the middle of a crowded room, full of people hailing from all walks of life, no one else in attendance could possibly know or understand the things they have experienced together, neither the joys nor the hardships. No -- beneath the moonlight streaming in through the glass ceiling, they are in their own world, and this moment is for them, and them alone.


End file.
